Alaudesketchbook's HP Story Dump
by AlaudeSketchbook
Summary: As the name and category suggested, it's a collection of Harry Potter crossover stories that I may or may not continue. You may use it for inspiration or whatever, I care not. However, PM me since I will probably be curious about it.
1. HP x Castlevania

I just need a break from these exams, and sometimes there are other things that prove to be a good distraction from studying for me. My brain's still stuck with my other stories though...

Disclaimer: I do not own Castlevania or Harry Potter.

* * *

No one had actually thought that he was Harry Potter. Just look at him – long red hair that was tied into a ponytail and _very_ sharp green eyes; tattoo covering his scar to his left cheek in a strange, sharp-ish form. Thankfully it didn't seem to be alive like Death Eater's Dark Mark. He was immediately Sorted to Slytherin after it yelped – suspiciously like in pain rather than shock or anything – instead of the intended Gryffindor. Everyone, even the Slytherin seemed to dislike him just like that.

Many days had him being trampled, hexed, and pranked, but it was strange that he didn't do anything in retaliation. Even more stranger that he didn't appear to be hurt the next day even after one day when one of the more vicious older student threw him a Bone Shattering Hex. He should've been in the Hospital Wing, in pain after drinking that bone-mending potion.

Ever since, no one actually dared to come near him, especially after that Bone Shattering hex incident. Harry wondered to himself almost amusingly after that.

The teachers though, looked at him with most curious expressions whenever he went to their classes. All of them had an unreadable expression on their faces. After all – he certainly wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, son of Lily and James Potter they had imagined. He didn't even look like James Potter with Lily's eyes that they have imagined.

But then it was Halloween. Quirrell had come into the Great Hall Running, screaming about trolls and sending the students into panic.

But Harry and Hermione weren't in the Great Hall.

When the teachers – Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell himself searched for the troll, they found themselves in a sight they rather not want to see, but it was fascinating. They didn't think golems could be made so easily by eleven years old child, and especially that powerful.

A golem made of darkness with purple crystal as heart and wings of both angel and demon, McGonagall later claimed to the circle of teachers who had their own methods to prevent the students into going after the Thing, had been slashing the troll while Harry was smiling almost too calmly in the situation. Like it was a child's play for him.

What they didn't know it was probably was for him. The Dursley might 'raise' him, but they would never able to erase his legacy.

After all, he was a descendant of Isaac LaForeze. What was a mere Wizard to a Devil Forgemaster?


	2. HP x Chaos Legion

Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos Legion or Harry Potter.

* * *

He had always hated the Dursley. They acted like they were royalty while in reality they were nothing more than an abusive family. Honestly. He knew that he had been abused for the first years of his life – and still continuing now – that he had learned to hide and steal and many other things to ensure he would survive. He even spent most of his time to be in the library to hide from his pig of a cousin. But then, living with the Dursley had it's limits too.

Like him being locked into his room of a cupboard right after he finished his 'chores' that was supposed to be divided fairly in the family. Sometimes though, he was given the job of cleaning attic, and it was where he had most books he found interesting rather than the books in the library.

He had found a book mentioning about a Legion of Chaos, and glyphs that were probably part of magic that his aunt and uncle would probably say didn't exist. But he was a child, and every child knew that magic was real. But he didn't know that not all magic was of light nature; the glyphs were of the darkness. And so he learned in the darkness of his cupboard. He didn't know that he had darkness inside him too, at that time.

And as every child, he would experiment at times, to see if he was able to do that or if it was in his limits. It happened that he had found some kind of red glove with the glyphs he had learned written all over it. He tried it using his right and for some strange reason it shrunk and fit his hand, where it stayed and wouldn't let itself to be removed even by force. He had to wear long sleeves after that.

He always knew that there was something inside him, helping him to heal his injuries and escape from Dudley from his Harry Hunting games. Perhaps it was magic?

He concentrated on his glove and tried to push his dormant magic-energy into it – and hope something came out, like what the books said about Dark Legions.

And it did.

He didn't know what he sacrificed – the books he had taught him a bit about alchemy and equivalent exchanges and whatnot, and surely what he would summon would want something in exchange so that they would be his somewhat bodyguard – but it was the biggest and strangest creature he had ever seen. He didn't notice that his scar was bleeding dark matter and it's darkness dripping down like water.

Then he remembered the passage of his Legion of Darkness book.

'-has four forms…. Juvenile… like a seahorse that stands… lean physique.. six metallic, spearhead-like protrusions coming out of its back-'

He gaped… He- he just summoned Thanatos. He was nine and he summoned _Thanatos_! Juvenile form, yes, but still – a Thanatos! The ultimate crest…

The Wizarding World wouldn't know what would hit them when he reached his eleventh age.


	3. HP x Pet Shop of Horrors

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors or Harry Potter.

* * *

Young Harry Potter knew of his strange ability, no matter how much Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon denied about its existence violently. Of magic, that was. Yet he kept quiet, knowing that both of them would yell at him more if he even mentioned something about magic in passing. Unknown to him, his concept of magic was highly different to the wizards and witches around him.

He had a gift of Sight.

Not the usual Sight like those Seers who claimed that they could look to the future, or that cool Sight that elves apparently have in the _Lord of the Rings_, but he could see something that no one can really see.

He also happened to have the gift of Hearing.

He heard things that no one really understood the meaning. Everyone around him heard animals barking, yowling, meowing, but never speaking like human beings.

And no, it didn't make him to be one of those people whose their mentalities were disturbed, no. He simply never spoke of it. Living with the Dursley had him to learn to never show other people your abilities unless you're forced to. It was unnecessary to have that attention, especially if it came from the Dursleys. They had the entire Privet Drive and school community in their backs, anyways. _Humans_, the back of his mind always spoke softly, _such disgraceful creatures_. It was the reason why he disliked people in general.

Attention from animals was better from the Dursleys. The rats and squirrels would find him some food they managed to snatch from some place – with the wrapper, of course – and the birds would sing to him of things beyond his imagination. Occasional snakes would bring him news of what was happening in the animal world. The insects, spiders and flies would spin some tales of the ancient times. Strangely, they always spoke of some 'dead Chinese community that were supposed to be his ancestors for his closeness to nature' kind of tale. He loved dogs, but Ripper was a feral one and loyal only to Aunt Marge. He didn't even want to speak with him – he wanted to tear him to pieces. Cats would like to accompany him when they saw him alone in the front yard, gossiping like ladies and worrying about his well-being.

So now it came to him right now, on the tree he liked to climb in the park with a few of Mrs. Figgs' cats, away from Dudley as he couldn't climb a tree thanks to his obesity. He never saw them as normal pets, though. His eyes saw them as people-like figure that had a few characteristics of what they were supposed to be. Their meows were equivalent of people speaking in their own language – of which in this case it was English in his ears.

Their chatter and how some of them cuddled with him made him feel drowsy…

"My, what do we have here?" Harry looked down and see a… Chinese man, if he was not mistaken. He certainly wore traditional Chinese clothing and his face was very Asian and feminine. If he hasn't spoken, Harry would probably think of him as a woman. But it was not the first thing his eyes were drawn into. The man's eyes – his left purple and the other was yellow.

"Oh!" One of the cats – he called her Isa – squealed. "Harry! He's the man I told you about!"

Green eyes that were too old for his eight-year-old frame blinked at her. "I see." He said, before turning to face the man. "Count D, I assume?"

The man gave him a mysterious smile. "Count D is the title that was given to my ancestor, young one. What is your name?"

Harry noticed the man didn't give his name nor did he deny it – aside from the title. So, D, huh? "I'm Harry Potter." He said shortly. He had heard from the birds that Count D was a person to talk to since they share the same ability and love of nature. Thanks to his time with those foolish humans, he was never one to trust people immediately, though he would immediately shower animals and nature around him with love. Something about Count D say that he was not human, but his appearance was certainly human enough.

Count D always found him whenever he was alone, and so they formed a familial bond – with Count D always fussing over him as a parent –Harry had always imagined it so – would.

Harry didn't know yet, but Count D was fairly sure that he was a long-lost cousin, as one of their ancestors before the massacre happened went to the west in search for more rare creatures in the guise of being a potter. Perhaps it was why his last name was Potter – such an uncreative ancestor. He must say that he didn't like the condition his younger cousin was in. _Pitiful humans abuse others that were different to them_, he always thought furiously to himself.

When Harry called him 'Dad' few months later, however… Count D had immediately brought the pictures of Harry being abused and neglected by his family and living in the cupboard instead of a perfectly able room to the government of England and with a few strings to speed up the process of whatever the government was doing, he adopted the child for himself.

Years later have found Harry Potter with his rare magical owl from the pet shop his adoptive father have, walking along the corridors of Hogwarts with no one daring to come near him. Cerberus of his First Year had been tamed and sent to his father's pet shop. He found trolls were repulsive. The Basilisk in his Second Year and hippogriff in his Third were also sent to his father's pet shop. All of those could be included as dangerous creatures, yet the Slytherin had tamed them like they were mere house pets…


	4. HP x Hobbit (movie)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Hobbit. Even if the Hobbit _is_ in it's movie form just for this fic.

Thanduil, no offense - but what's with your pointy crown and stag ride? Horses too mainstream for ya?

* * *

James Potter sighed… In his stag form.

Merlin knew what actually had happened during that night where Voldemort had successfully killed him. He had always thought that the damned two words of Avada Kedavra, his soul would be sucked into that blasted wand of the self-proclaimed Dork Lord (or his Death Munchers, if he was to die in one of their hands). Or perhaps beyond the Veil. He was never particularly a religious person.

He had never expected to be alive again, that was to say the least. Alive with his memories of the Potters, Hogwarts, his Lily and Prongslet intact. He wondered of the fate that should befall to his young one. Had Lily survived? Did she bring their son into safety?

Well – now he hadn't the time to be able to look for them as he had been reborn… As a stag. In the depths of Mirkwood that reminded him awfully of Forbidden Forest, only with more spiders and no centaurs or other magical creatures aside from dwarves and elves. Apparently the elves here weren't as… pitying as the House-Elves of his old home. They were like… an enhanced version of archaic muggles. They have lumos-enhanced skin, and immortal too. Come to think of it, wasn't Dorkmort's name was translated from some language that meant running from death anyhow?

Still, he mused. It was a shame that he wasn't reborn as a wizard. Not that he envied the wizards in this place, mind you. He had heard from some elves that were taking care of his herd (in their terms – but he never were particularly close with the does they had brought him to mate with; he was a human in his previous life, thank you very much! He wasn't going to mate some random, mindless _deer_. Ewww. His animagus form might be a male deer, but he preferred to be with his _actual_ kind – and his wife happened to be Lily) that wizards took form of old men. He did _not_ envy them. But then, he still have this dilemma of being a stag instead of some creature with thumbs, walks with two legs, uses two hands on daily basis _and_ magic.

Oh, now his 'rider', that elf called Thranduil came. He had to supress a snort.

This Thranduil fellow – not very imaginative was he? Forks for some strange crown… And rode a stag, apparently. He was just as senile as Dumbledore. With his immortality, he couldn't tell how old Thrandul was. Dratted forever young creatures. Now why couldn't he be a more normal king – like, oh he didn't know, King Arthur with his crown of gold, perhaps? Or kings with crowns of some precious metal with precious gems? – instead of a bizarre one? He had seen his offspring called Legolas, and at least he was _normal_ – well, as normal as an elf of this strange place called Arda could be, at least. Riding a _horse_, for one.

He just had to wonder, though. Why was he being chosen to be the dunderheaded king (as he liked to call his 'rider' in his head as he obviously couldn't speak) as his ride, was on his primary list. Why was he always stuck with idiot people, was the second one on his list.

Well – he supposed he just have to grin and bear with it. Hmm. Perhaps he should make a _good_ time with his 'rider'? A nearby elf jumped away from him once he took a good look of his deer-grin.


	5. HP x Tales of the Abyss

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Tales of the Abyss.

Merely writing this for the frustration against mid-semester test and writer block for my other story *sulk*

* * *

It came to no one's surprise, when they all found out he got perfect scores. Again. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had long been told (or threatened, depending on your point of view) that if they 'asked' him to lower his grades, he would be with them until his majority, not earlier than that. Yes, earlier.

Their nephew Harry Potter was hated by his relatives, but he had raised a few points of which they could not ignore his mere words. That if he had continued his studies, and perhaps if they allowed it, he could skip a few grades, far in upper grade than his cousin – and later on, enrol himself into the prestigious college with full scholarship; they didn't even had to pay for him, though they only have to pay for his clothing and food until he went to college or university. And he would despair of what kind of people who would believe parents who had raised two children of which one come as a criminal the other as a respectable England citizen; if the two was raised in the same household? Of course, the fact that the Petunia and Vernon raising the children since they were naught but toddlers weren't helping. There must be something wrong within the house, something abnormal in their way handling children. One could not be a criminal due to their genetics after all; it's due to how they were raised.

Of course, that point had raised the alarms of the elder Dursleys that they actually retracted the lies they had spread around their neighbours about young Harry Potter, and gave him Dudley's second bedroom. And hope, that the boy would go away once he finished his education.

So now, here they were, looking at Harry's score in his last year of High School. Now he was due to a college.

He was still ten years old…

Harry Potter smiled a calm smile, enjoying the manipulation he had pulled to the Dursleys; enough that they were actually ignoring him instead of forcing to do chores like they used to do years ago. He knew of magic, of course; why not? Fonic Artes were now acknowledged as magic rather than Arts used against harmful creatures or humans; more practical too! And it was the reason of how he was able to use it that his relative had called him a freak in the first place. He knew, of course; he still had his fonic sight. Of how magic would move up and about around him, following him and some people that would bow at him for getting rid of the late Dark Lord, one whose name he hadn't found out even in the books he had bought from Diagon Alley (he often used some make ups to cover his scar and dye his hair into light brown – like what he used to look like).

Silly people, afraid of the name of their enemy. He remembered that no one was afraid of the name Vandesdelca Musto Fende, or Van Grants. Many people actually either supported or hated him; fighting alongside his small ragtag group in their own ways, and _survive_.

Hmmm. He now wondered of the fate of each individual members of the said ragtag group. It had been years, after all, since he had born again to a world different than Auldrant. Technology was more advanced here rather than Auldrant, and there were no monsters; instead there were animals.

He sipped his black coffee as he looked at each brochure he had brought, of the college or university he shall attend. Ah, to be young again. Choices, choices… The university of Cambridge certainly looked promising… Oxford university had tickled his fancy, what's with famous authors going there – he had been interested of what kind of education he would receive from that university; for some authors of which books he had read, he could consider them as literature geniuses.

He then heard a distinct, insistent knocking in the window of the kitchen. He looked up to see an owl.

… Ah, Hogwarts wasn't it? He saw the courses of which he would be taught by the professors, and he was sure that he would be bored there, magic, Artes, or no. Durmstrang had been kind enough that he was able to do long-ranged education when he was younger; and he passed OWLS with flying colours. He now waited for his NEWTS result. He wrote to Hogwarts, that he had taken NEWTS test, and he shall be no longer required to go to any magical schools.

He had no real use for a wand; of course, he had the ability of what these ignorant Fonic users call 'wandless magic', since he was able to call-and-hide his spear that he could use as a focus. Wands were also used as focus, though he was now reconsidering to buy one, just for the enemy to underestimate him – if said wand was taken away from his person.

But of course, seeing that he had no use for fans, he was now considering changing his name – to the name he used to have. Jade Curtiss, or perhaps Jade Balfour? Hmm… Choices…

It came to him that in the later months, he had stood inside Hogwarts. He was of course, amused at the situation – why now; the Leader of Light kidnapping the Boy who Lived? He did so enjoyed to spin the web of lies about Dumbledore, the old man surely was old and senile to believe that he had been raised well in the Dursley's household. He was a Slytherin through and through, most of them would say. He was immediately put there by the strange talking hat, though.

Ah, what's this; a troll? Well, he would like a chance or two to refine his previous abilities that he had acquired from the adventures he had with the younger ones. He had calmly ushered the hysterical Gryffindor (what's this? Fonic users nowadays had split their community in their children's early years? Wasn't that what had caused the crumbling state of wizarding world nowadays?) out of the girl's loo, despite the chaotic sight behind both of them, before turning around to face the troll.

He smirked.

"I, who stand in the full light of the heavens, command thee, who opens the gates of hell. Come forth, divine lightning! This ends now! Indignation!"

… Well, he might or might not say that it had been overkill…


	6. HP x Saiyuki

Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki or Harry Potter

Somewhat am obsessing over Saiyuki Gaiden, and then another crossover came to mind. Just love how Harry Potter story is just so flexible with it's magic. It's possible to do anything you like...

* * *

It was a less known fact – that no one know of it at all, not even Gojun his superior or Kenren his General. Everyone thought it was just his antics that he had brought items such as paintings or books or things like that from the world below. It was a hobby of his, he told Goku once, to bring things from the world below, just like Kenren's hobby of fishing, and Konzen's bizarre hobby of stamping a document with the perfect angle.

No one knew that those things he had, were created by the hands of his descendants of his in the world below. Kenren had once thought he was asexual. Not that he bothered to correct that misunderstanding. He was proud, of course.

It was a long time ago during one of the missions of subduing a monster, that he had seen a soon-to-be victim of the monster's; a lady mortal with fiery red hair and a temper to match. He had been entranced with her beauty, of course. While there were quite a lot of beauties in the heavens, the beauty of the lady had been different such as mortals, and brief like the cherry blossoms when they were blooming – and it had charmed him enough to court her in secret – and lain with her. She had given him children, as he had some more trips after that to the lower world, to both subdue monsters and to meet her.

But of course, the bitter thing of all these, was that he had restrained himself to get to know his children, knowing that if the heaven knew of this (even the smallest interaction with mortals), they would all be considered as abomination, heretic, and all other things they could think of. He watched as his mortal lover die of old age and his children grow fatherless. So he settled himself to watch over them, his children who all bore his emerald eyes, and their children and grandchildren; resolving to watch over those of his bloodline and give them a subtle protection that would ensure their health; and let them to live a free life.

But when he had later reincarnated as Cho Gonou (and later, Cho Hakkai), he found that it was a bitter irony that he was born of his own bloodline, with his own eye colour (every children of his had a different shade of green than normal green-eyed people) – after he and the others had come back to heaven, their memory restored by Kanzeon Botatsu – and not to forget that Hakuryuu had transformed into Gojun, his superior. Apparently Gojun, too, had died long after the Incident more than 500 years before, for his injured organs and crushed vertebrata. He did not tell of it to anyone, of course.

So he had resolved to look for his descendants in the world below like he had used to, and collect some artefacts to rebuild his destroyed collection when his residence was destroyed by Li Touten's order.

He knew of Lily Evans, the young mother of his new descendant, Harry Potter. For many years he had watched, Lily Evans was one of many bastard children his descendants had (and with a married woman, no less! Oh, if he was able to look for his soul in the crowds of soul in underworld, he would give him scolding of a lifetime! And he would be a new one in the list of descendants he needed to scold – including that idiotically cunning and ambitious Salazar) and one of many he was proud of. She protected her son by her own life and magic – perhaps as a desperate act – against the murderer who had sought to kill those who were 'impure' for his eyes. She died, and her son miraculously survived.

With her plea that he heard, he then set himself to watch over his many-times-grandson.

… And was appalled that an old mortal had placed him to Lily's half-sister for protection. He had seen just how Lily was despised by the person she looked up the most, her own sister, and Petunia, the hateful child, had pushed her more and more for envy for her capability to use magic. Petunia then had developed an abnormal sense of 'normalcy', and married a man of the same narrow view.

He came up the idea of bringing him to heaven before shooting the idea down. Heaven was still full of people who thought themselves better than the others, and there was no saying of when another Li Touten might appear. It brought him a question for himself: just how in the world was he, Gojyo, Sanzo, and Goku existed in a community full of superior-complexed people?

… Ah, never mind that himself.

Hmmm… Perhaps he should make himself some excuses to go to the lower world to get to know – just for once – this child. He wouldn't ask of his other descendants though; just how was he to speak to the others? "Hello, I'm Tenpou – you might know me better as Cho Hakkai or Zhu Bajie. I'm one of your long-line ancestors in the age where youkai and humans live together in harmony, and I'm asking you to look for the other descendant like your own son?" That would be just ridiculous…

Well, he _could_ help him by using a protector… And a magical small, white dragon went into his mind.

… This would need him to tell Gojun about his secret, but he knew that the Dragon King was a considerate person, and killing innocents such as his descendants would go against his moral. Especially if he knew that Gojun _was_ in a way, Hakuryuu. The small dragon had accompanied him and his dysfunctional group a lift every time, and from one incident, he knew that the time when he had been gone for a night was a time of which he entertained children that were neglected by their parents.

Despite Gojun's intimidating posture and his high position in both military and politics, he was such a softie when it comes to children. And in his dwellings of strictly military and politics, he would rarely see children in heaven.

Gojun had agreed, after many negotiations and blackmails and guilt trips after he had brought the dragon king into looking at the mirror that he had enchanted himself of the home life of Harry Potter inside the cupboard, to send one of his; a small white dragon who could transform at will – just like himself as Hakuryuu a long time ago. Kouryuu was his name, just to irritate the former Sanzo if he'll hear a wind of this. A fitting name since the small dragon loved to play with water, just as his name sake was named since he was found in a river.

Harry Potter was eleven this year. He was hated by his relatives, but he had comfort for many years to endure that hatred; a small dragon companion called Kouryuu. He was smart for his age, and Kouryuu was kind enough to help him steal some books for him to read – and fire for the light he needed to read inside the darkness of the cupboard. With his gift to speak with snakes (and a dragon) and understand them, Kouryuu had taught him many things about life and lessons necessary to survive in this kind of household (including lock-picking), and stories of the heroics of the gods who were considered as traitors by heaven within the confusion or the stories of four people who would go to the West for a mission from the higher beings so that youkai and humans can live together once more.

But in his birthday, he had found – and hidden – a letter addressed to him inside his second bedroom. He had grew more than the expected of an underfed child (he had stolen something of their fridge and looked for coins or money that his relatives has dropped to buy food) that the Dursley were forced to put him in the second bedroom of Dudley instead of the cupboard. He smiled to himself that he had outgrew his own cupboard.

The letter was of magic school, and there was a giant man who came to the house (the Dursleys were hysterical by the appearance of another and bigger _freak_).

Harry asked if he could bring his friend Kouryuu with him as they went to Diagon Alley, Kouryuu himself had transformed into a headband that Harry used to cover his scar under his long locks that surprisingly made his hair tame rather than messier. What he wasn't aware of was that he looked like his ancestor by that accessory and hairstyle…


End file.
